Who I Once Was
by Storytellers Inc
Summary: After a regretful past of righteous crimes, a woman starts to work advising the police. There she meets Dr. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, the world's first and only consulting detective. Sherlock has his suspicions of her, he can't figure her out and it's driving him insane, but what will happen when he finds out that she's supposed to be dead?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello. I am called the Imagineer. This is my first Sherlock fanfic. I have several fanfics posted such as: "The Phantom and the Fawn", "The Runaways", "The Fighting Survivor", "Experiment L." and "The Oddest of them All". So this is not my first actual fanfic. I own no one except for my OC. Please read and review and if I have messed up on anything just let me know. Agreed?**

**Prologue**

At Eleven Warwick Street in London is the Catholic Church of Our Lady of Assumption and Saint Gregory and in that churchis a confessional, where a person can receive the sacrament of Reconciliation and be forgiven of their sins.

**( ?'s POV)**

"Bless me Father for I have sinned, I am sorry for all my sins, especially for-"

"Dear child I know where you are going with this, you tell me the same confessions every time you come hear, sometimes you have new minor sins as well but that is not the point. I don't think you are able to forgive yourself, God is always forgiving you and what you have done in the past; but you are unable to forgive yourself, why is that?" Father Richards asked me.

"Because Father I am actually proud of killing some of those men, I think they deserved it majority of the people I have killed were perverts, pedophiles, molesters, rapists, and murderers themselves, and I have always caught them in the act when I killed them; so I have saved people, sort of. The minority that I have killed I did not kill willing." I said solemnly.

"Well, you come to church and confession more so than any of the others, it seems as if it were a month ago that you received the sacrament of Confirmation." He remarked.

I laughed. "Father it _was_ a month ago."

"I was honored when you asked Sister Lucia and I to be your godparents before the day you were baptized." He said

"That was months and months ago, but I remember it clearly. You two are the virtuous role models I need to help me excel in becoming a new person." I told him.

"But you need to go out into the world and meet other people, make friends; Sister Lucia and I will not be here forever we are old, our time may soon end, maybe not today or tomorrow but sometime in the near distant future." He told me.

"I know, I will be starting work tomorrow I will be a adviser for the Detective's department; working with a Detective Lestrade, Mr. Anderson, Ms. Donovan, and two other consultants by the name of Dr. John Watson and Mr. Sherlock Holmes." I said.

"Well I shouldn't be keeping you then, you will need your rest. How is your Latin study with Sister Lucia though?" he asked after he finished hearing my confession and absolved me of my sins, Sister Lucia has been teaching me Latin since the day we met a year and a half ago.

"It is coming along very nicely." I answered then stepped out of the confessional. Fr. Richards exited then hugged me.

"I will see you on Sunday my dear." He said.

"Yes, see you on Sunday." I replied then walked silently out of the church. I had to get to my new flat that I had just moved into this morning. 221c Baker Street.

**Author's Note:**

**So how was that? The next chapter will hopefully have more information on this character, but I'm thinking about not giving you her **_**real**_** name till later when a she tells a certain someone but he has to gain her trust first.**

** Sincerely,**

** Imagineer **


	2. Chapter 2

**HELLO EVERYONE! How are you all today? Good, Bad, Undecided? Well anyway here is chapter two! Oh how exciting! **

Chapter 2

When I arrived at my new flat I was greet by my new landlady, who I met earlier that morning. Mrs. Hudson greeted me with a welcoming smile and embraced me in what I believe is called a hug. I had little contact with the world in my past so I am not up to date yet fully on a few things.

"Thank you for letting me stay here Mrs. Hudson, it means a lot. I hope you don't mind about the piano, or the dogs; they mean the world to me." I said. I own two dogs, one is a black pit-bull with a white stomach, the other is a white wolf-husky mix and they both have beautiful bright blue eyes and both of them are boys.

"Oh it's alright dear; those boys act better than your neighbors in 221B. Also I am a fan of music and would love to here you play sometime, though I hope you don't mind; one of you neighbors, Sherlock Holmes can be very noisy sometimes he'll play the violin when he's thinking so I hope that won't bother you." She told me.

"Don't worry Mrs. Hudson, _czy__można__ z __tym__żyć__, __nie__mogę__też_. If you can live with it, I can too." I laughed and Mrs. Hudson laughed with me.

"Would you like to meet the boys upstairs dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked as I opened the door to my new flat. The walls were a light shade of lavender with silver designs on it and the carpet was cream colored, my furniture was black; I thought it was lovely, my piano was off to the side near a corner of my living space by a window showing that the sun would be setting soon.

"Absolutely, Mrs. Hudson; I just need to take Bruno and Jarek out for a quick walk first."

I told her grabbing their leashes out of my bag. "Bruno, Jarek, _chodź__tu_!" I called; they both came and barked their greeting.

"Take your time dear." She told me smiling at the dogs.

"Thank you again Mrs. Hudson." I said. "You're welcome Rozalia." She replied and I left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I got back the sun was turning a lovely shade of orange as it made it's descent from the sky. I looked up at 221B and saw through the window that the lights were on. I opened the door and unhooked Bruno and Jarek from their leashes, being the loyal dogs that they are they sat still on either side of me, never leaving my side.

"_Halo_! Mrs. Hudson, I'm back." I called out. There was no answer _'She is most likely in 221B.' _I thought. "Bruno, Jarek, chodź." I told them, they stood and followed me upstairs. When we reached the door I knocked once and that was all it took. The door opened and I was greeted by Mrs. Hudson.

"There you are dear, come in." she moved to the side to let us in. As soon as I entered the flat I was greeted by a short man with brownish, blonde, silver hair. I assumed he was a soldier by the way he held himself, I know a soldier when I see one and I have seen many in my short life span of only twenty-six years.

"Hello, you must be Rozalia, Mrs. Hudson has told us much about you." He greeted and held out his hand for me to shake.

"_Halo_, you must be Doctor John Watson, yes?" I shook is hand.

"Yep, that's me, and this is my flat mate Mr. Sherlock Holmes." He gestured to his friend who was sitting in a chair reading a book. "Sherlock, get up and come greet our new neighbor." said John in an irritated voice. Sherlock closed his book with a loud thud then looked at me then Bruno and then Jarek, then back at me and rose from his chair.

"So how was your traveling?" he asked casually.

"Pardon?" I asked.

"You have a slight tan which means you have been traveling, for how long if I may ask?"

"Twenty years." I replied casually.

"Amazing, what drove a six year old girl to travel around the world for twenty years?" he asked.

"Family affairs, I'm the child of a single mother who was always busy, and traveled often, always dragging me with her." I lied. This was a lie I told everyone. Sherlock seemed to believe it. I am an incredible liar.

"And your dogs, you've had them for ten years I assume?"

"Yes sir." I answered, keeping eye contact with him. Sherlock Holmes has the most beautiful, mysterious eyes I have ever seen filled with knowledge, and loneliness; loneliness that I see everyday in my own eyes when I look in the mirror.

'_Why do our eyes hold this loneliness?' _I thought.

"I see you have trained them well, they seem very loyal to you." Sherlock continued.

"The loyalty is mutual." I replied.

"You are a mystery, there is still more to learn about you, more than meets the eye Miss Rozalia and I intend to find out what." He told me.

Half an hour later I was in my room getting ready for bed, my night clothes consist of spandex shorts and a sports bra; the reason for this is because I wake up at four in the morning to exercise. My routine consists of 200 curl-ups, 210 push-ups, 215 pull-ups with my portable bar, a half an hour of yoga, an hour and a half of martial arts (you name it I've mastered it), the rest of my time till eight o'clock in the morning I spend with 20 ankle-weights strapped to my legs while I kick the sand out of my punching bag. This has been my routine for twenty years. I am not vain; I am just keeping in shape. At eight I put on a three inch strapped shirt and took Bruno and Jarek out for a walk, leaving my ankle-weights on because I was lazy. During that time period I stopped by the local grocery store to pick up milk, chocolate chips, eggs, pancake mix, and dog treats. When I got back Mrs. Hudson was up and dressed and ready for the day, approaching my door.

"You won't find me in there I can tell you that Mrs. Hudson," I smirked when she jumped a bit.

"Dear child never sneak up on me like that!" she scolded playfully.

"My apologies then." I replied then opened my apartment door. "Did you wish to speak with me Mrs. Hudson?" I asked my landlady who stood in the doorway.

"I just wanted to ask if you know what that noise was, started up around four in the morning."

"Yes I do Mrs. Hudson, you are looking at the source of the noise; I was working out. If this bothers you I will stop-"

"No, no dear that's fine, I only wanted to know what it was. It is fine by me, although I don't know about Sherlock and John though." She told me.

"I'm sure Sherlock will figure it out. Hopefully he won't mind the noise, and pray that John is a heavy sleeper." I laughed and Mrs. Hudson chortled at my tone.

"You best hope so dear." She said, and then left.

I made chocolate-chip pancakes for breakfast, feed the dogs and then took a shower. I put on a pair of jeans, a purple shirt with black hemming and lace and black knee high boots. Sherlock and John were seated at the table waiting for me in the kitchen.

"_Dzień dobry _boys, what can I do for you?" I asked cheerfully.

"Yes, what was with all the noise this morning?" asked John.

"I was working out." I told him

"And you started this routine how many years ago?" asked Sherlock.

"Twenty." I answered casually. Sherlock looked at me with one eyebrow lifted questioningly.

"Yet you don't look like you have been doing this work out for that long." He said.

"Is that a challenge Mr. Holmes?" I asked then sat myself in the chair opposite of his resting my elbow on the table.

"Yes it is Miss Koszalinowski." He replied then copied my actions, clasping my tiny hand in his large one.

"You're not really going to arm-wrestle a girl are you Sherlock?" John asked.

"Ah, but John this is no ordinary girl." He answered.

"All right then." John sighed. When John said go immediately Sherlock's hand was slammed onto the table top by mine.

"Damn! You're good." He admitted and John's facial expression was flabbergasted.

"You're next John." I said turning to him holding my arm up. He looked as if he was going to say no.

"Fine." He grumbled and took my hand in his. Sherlock counted to three and just like him John's hand was pinned to the table by mine.

"I'm just that good boys." I told them, smirking. My phone rang, it was Lestrade texting me that I had a case, my first case; a kidnapping.

"Sorry boys but I have to get going, there is work to be done." I told them grabbing my fedora and leather jacket that reached my knees in length.

"Have a good day." John called as I walked to the door.

"You too, and get out of my flat!" I called back, laughing. I left the building, called a taxi then met Lestrade at the victim's house.

"Miss Rozalia, I'm glad you could make it." Lestrade greeted shaking my hand.

"So what am I up against?" I asked him.

"Name Julie Wess, six years old, brown hair brown eyes, reported missing yesterday afternoon around 3:22 p.m., mother just got a divorce from her abusive husband seven months ago and has full custody of the child, and she suspects her husband took her." He informed me.

"May I go talk to the mother?" I asked him.

"Of course." He told me and led me to the living area where the Julie's mother sat on the couch crying.

"Ms. Wess," I gained her attention. "Hello, my name is Rozalia Koszalinowski and I _will_ find your daughter but in order to find her I am going to have to ask you a few questions first." I told her, she nodded.

"Was your ex-husband a drinker?"

"Yes, but what does this have to do with Julie?" she asked me.

"It has everything to do with Julie, how much does your husband drink on a daily basis and what kind of drink?" I stated.

"It's whisky; he normally drinks about three and a half pints of it." Ms. Wess answered.

"Good, this will be easy." I muttered. "Ms. Wess may I take a look in your daughter's room?" I asked.

"Go ahead; it's just down the hall, second door on your left." She said then blew her nose into her handkerchief. I followed the woman's directions and found myself in Julie's room it was not the typical girly pink as I had expected but sunshine yellow with blue, pink and purple flowers on the comforter on her mattress. _'Simple, find her diary and an article of worn clothing for Bruno to sniff.' _I told myself as I searched through her room I had already taken a worn white shirt with pink floral pattern from her laundry basket, all I had to find was her diary. I searched through her notebooks to see if she had used one of those as a journal but found none.

"Think Rosie if I was a little girl who wanted to hide my feelings from mummy where would I hide my diary?" I spoke aloud to myself. I checked under her bed, in her closet, in her dresser drawers, on her bed side table but found no diary. There was only one typically obvious place left to look…..under her pillow.

"Ha! There you are you sneaky rainbow colored confidant." I spoke to the inanimate object joyfully. Opening the book I turned to months before the divorce. This one entry I found was all I needed to read. It said:

"_Dear Diary,_

_I scared. Daddy blames me for the divorce and told me 'If I could, I'd toss you into the River Thames before nightfall.' I think he might actually do that someday. I can't wait for him to be out of my life forever. I didn't tell Mommy about what Daddy said to me, I don't want to make her life more stressing than it is now. It won't be long now until Daddy is gone. I hope Mommy dates a man who will be a better Daddy for us. I can't wait. Thank you for being here to talk with when I need you the most. Good night. Love, Julie"_

I had everything I needed this man is lazy, too lazy to kill his little girl before throwing her into the river. This really was too easy, I can see why it is, this guy is a drunk and unprofessional; I have seen more professional than this guy, too bad I can't kill him. _'That's not your life anymore Rosie, leave your killing days behind you.' _I told myself.

After I exited Julie's room I went straight to the living room finding Lestrade assuring Ms. Wess that we will find her daughter. They both turned their heads to look at me.

"Lestrade, I'm sure _I_ will bring Julie home before supper. I need to make a phone call." I told them confidently. I took out me mobile phone and called Mrs. Hudson.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hi Mrs. Hudson is John there?" I asked her.

"Yes he is Rozalia I'll put him on." She told me, in the background I could hear the phone being passed to John.

"What can I do for you neighbor?" John asked in a cheery voice.

"Hi John, can you do me a favor or two?" I asked.

"Yeah sure." He answered confusedly.

"Thanks. First tell Sherlock to stop rummaging around in my flat, he won't find anything and second can you bring Bruno and Jarek to this address I'll send it to you by text." I told him.

"Okay, I can do that." replied John. I ended the call if John had any question he knew what my number was now.

I turned back to Lestrade, who seemed surprised. "Let me guess, you moved into 221C Baker Street am I right?" He asked.

"You are." I answered him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you for coming all this way to bring me the boys John." I said to him taking the dogs' leashes.

"I can tell you that it was easier than getting Sherlock out of your flat. He thinks you're hiding some dark secret." John laughed. My heart froze for a second _'He will never find out unless he forces me to tell him or unless he gains my trust, which is hard to get in the first place. It takes a lot for me to trust someone with my dark secret.' _I thought.

"That is absurd!" I laughed.

"I know isn't it?" John agreed.

"Yes." I nodded.

**(Narrative POV)**

John got back into the cab only to find Sherlock in the seat next to him.

"Why did you follow me?" he questioned his friend angrily.

"Because, I wanted to know where you were going with Rozalia's dogs, why is she here though? This is that house of the six year old girl was kidnapped, it was on the news, what was her name?" rambled Sherlock.

"Julie, Julie Wess." John said exasperatedly.

"She must be the new adviser Lestrade was talking about then." figured Sherlock.

"No kidding." John drawled sarcastically.

**(Rozalia's POV)**

I took one of the two trackers from my pocket and snapped it onto Bruno's collar then took Julie's shirt and held it to his nose.

"Bruno _powąchać_!" I ordered. Bruno sniffed the shirt then ran out the front door which I had left open. He knew what whisky smelt of; no matter what his nose would keep Julie's scent until he found her.

"Wonderful!" I exclaimed.

"We already sent search dogs out there and they found nothing." said Lestrade. I turned around to look at him.

"_Twoje psy nie są takie jak moje psy_." I told him seriously. I took out my tracker GPS and turned it on then put it back in my pocket.

"Once Bruno finds Julie he will stay with her. He knows what he is doing, don't worry." I assured him. "Julie's father will be somewhere near the River Thames." I informed him.

"I hope you're right about this." Lestrade said.

"Oh ye of little faith, I am." I said confidently.

**(Narrative POV)**

Bruno found the girl and her father near the Westminster Bridge Road, not far from the River Thames in an old unoccupied building. When he got inside he heard a soft sobbing overshadowed by a loud drunken snore.

Julie was tied up, alone, and scared; she knew what would happen if no one found her in time and she knew that if she screamed her daddy would wake up and be very angry and beat her. She certainly didn't want that.

She struggled against her bonds as quietly as she could but fell over and once more she began to cry as her father snored loudly in his sleep. All of a sudden she felt something slobbery lick the tears from her cheeks, she opened her eyes to see a black dog with a white belly standing close to her. Julie looked at its name tag and saw the name 'Bruno' written on it.

"Bruno." She tested the name, the sound of it felt assuring. The reacted to hearing his name and help Julie sit up again by nudging her back with his snout.

"Is someone coming to find me Bruno?" she asked the animal, the only answer the dog gave her was a lick on her cheek. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." Julie giggled.

**(Rozalia's POV)**

"They're in a building on Westminster Bridge Road, here is the address." I wrote it down on a piece of paper. My GPS suddenly beeped I looked down.

"Hell fire and damnation!" I shouted angrily.

"What's wrong?" Lestrade asked worriedly

"They're moving, he's taking her to the river. Come we must hurry!" I shouted behind me as I walked towards Lestrade car and sat in the driver's seat; Lestrade got in asking no questions but telling the other to follow his car.

I drive like a demon, but I am a demon who once took first place in several street races, actually I was banned from street racing because I always won against anyone who dared to challenge me.

When we got there Julie's father already had her in burlap sack in one hand and in the other a gun. _'O cholera.' _I thought.

"Lestrade, do you have a switchblade or something?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's under your seat." He nodded to where the switchblade was.

"Wonderful!" I said triumphantly, kissing the blade. "This will be needed for safe measures." I explained. "Let's go see if we can negotiate with the _skurwysyn_." I growled.

**(Narrative POV)**

In Mrs. Hudson's flat Sherlock, John and Mrs. Hudson herself had the eyes glued to the television as the new received live coverage of the kidnapped girl, Julie Wess.

"As you can see, they are trying to negotiate with- Oh my goodness! The suspect has just thrown the bag holding little Julie into the river! But wait someone has jumped in after her, the suspect has just fired his gun at the rescuer! Two dogs have tackled the suspect; Detective Inspector Lestrade has disarmed the suspect. There seems to be no sign of- wait! I see them, little Julie and her rescuer whose name is still unknown. Paramedics have just arrived." The female reporter spoke to the camera.

"That was our Rosie?" asked Mrs. Hudson.

"Yes," John nodded "Yes it was." He stated.

"As of right now Julie is being given CPR. We are unauthorized to go near the scene, all we can do is hope little Julie is okay." said the reporter.

**(Rozalia's POV)**

"Come on Julie breathe, mommy is waiting for you. Come on Julie breathe, breathe!" I yelled, the little girl spat up the water that was blocking her airway and started to breathe again.

"Thank you Miss." She coughed as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"_Proszę bardzo malucha_." I hugged her back, ignoring the pain in my shoulder.

Jarek and Bruno ran over to us, Jarek had my leather jacket in his mouth.

"_Dziękuję Jarek_." I took the jacket from him and put it on, hiding my wound. When the paramedics came to take Julie they asked if I was all right. I lied and told them that everything was fine. Once they left with Julie, Lestrade walked up to me.

"Job well done, and pretty fast I might add." He smiled at me.

"_Dziękuję_." I laughed.

"I'll hail a cab for you, it's the least I can do." He said. When he got me a cab he paid for my trip, I was too tired to protest and my right shoulder was stinging.

"I look forward to working with you in the future Miss Koszalinowski." Lestrade said then shut the door. Bruno was by the window and Jarek sat between us, this was how we sat as we drove home.

"_Home what a lovely word._" I smiled at the thought.

**(A boring cab ride later….)**

As soon as I walked in through the door I was tackled by Mrs. Hudson who held me in a tight hug.

"Well done Rosie, oh look at you you're sopping wet; they couldn't have given you a towel?" she asked, the question made me laugh. It was when John hugged me when I remember the bullet in my shoulder; I hissed a little as I felt slightly in pain again.

"Are you all right Rozalia?" John questioned.

"Just a few sore muscles, that's all." I lied, he seemed to buy it.

"Well we shouldn't keep you from putting on some warm clothes." John said. I opened the door to my flat the dogs walked in before me; I was just about to walk in when my jacket was forcefully pulled off my shoulders.

"Sherlock!" John yelled angrily "That was not at all polite!"

"Oh dear, Rosie you're bleeding." said Mrs. Hudson worriedly.

I sighed loudly "I'll go get my kit." I drawled then walked into my flat. I returned with _my_ first aid kit that was not at all like a normal one that families would keep in their homes this was more like doctor's aid kit. It had all the essentials that I needed in my past.

"Come to Sherlock's flat dear and I'll make everyone a cup of tea." Mrs. Hudson said when I walked out of my flat. I followed the three of them into John and Sherlock's flat and sat on a wooden foot-stool at the kitchen table then handed John the kit.

"How come you didn't tell the paramedics that you were injured?" Sherlock asked sitting in a chair to my left.

"I didn't need their help as much as Julie needed it." I stated casually.

"You are well prepared." John said looking in my kit for my needle and stitches.

"Thank you, I pride myself on that sometimes." I replied.

"Julie didn't have a bullet in her shoulder." Sherlock retorted, ignoring what John just said.

"She could have gone into shock. It takes a lot for me to go into shock; she is still a child, an _innocent_ child, Sherlock." I told him with fierceness in my eyes. I took off my shirt and pulled the strap of my black tank-top/cardigan/thing so John could stitch me up.

"Let's not argue children." Mrs. Hudson interrupted placing a cup of tea in front of each of us including her.

"Uh, Rosie you don't have any pain-killers in here." John said confusedly.

"I don't need them John; I have a much higher pain tolerance than _most_ people." I informed him.

As soon as John finished stitching me up I wished them all a 'good night' and then went to bed. Today has been a busy day.

**Author's Note**

**This has probably been the longest chapter I have **_**ever**_** written, I am SO tired.**

**Enjoy dear readers!**

**- Imagineer**


	3. Chapter 3

**And welcome back everyone I'm so glad you could join me today for this chapter; we are finally going to start following the story line/television series. Wowzers, I hope this is good, I'm trying my best here guys.**

** - Imagineer**

Chapter 3: The Blind Banker (Part 1)

"Don't worry about me I can manage." I heard John mumble loudly as he trudged up the stairs.

"Oh John here let me give you a hand." I rushed up and met him halfway up the stairs and took the two grocery bags from his right hand.

"Thank you Rosie, you're a real angel." John told me.

"John I am no angel, but a sinner trying to be a Good Samaritan." I chuckled after saying this. My soul is so stained by my sins that I would not even be considered as an angel. John and I continued up the stairs to his flat. After putting the bags on the table John looks at Sherlock who is sitting at a desk looking at John's computer.

"Is that my computer?" he asked his flat mate.

"Of course," Sherlock answered, I giggled slightly.

"What?"

"Mine was in the bedroom." Sherlock said casually.

"What, you couldn't be bothered to get up?" John was getting frustrated, I felt sort of sorry that I was still giggling at his predicament.

"Its password protected." John said.

"In a matter of speaking, it took me less than a minute to guess yours; not exactly 'Fort Knox'." Sherlock stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. John took back his computer and shut it with a loud snap then placed it on the floor beside the dull reddish-orange chair then sat down in said chair.

"I need to get a job." He said after looking through what I suspected were bills.

"Oh dull." sighed Sherlock.

"Well, I guess I will be leaving then I bought some flower seeds this morning and I have been meaning to plant them. _Do zobaczenia chłopcy_!" I called as I walked out their door.

I planted the seeds, roses of course, into two pots, one white and one black; red roses in the white pot and in the black were blue, lavender, and white roses. When Sherlock and John left I went up to there flat and took John's computer and read Sherlock's email. Why I did this, because I knew by the look on Sherlock's face that the reason they went out was for a case, a non-homicidal case, yet. I hacked into the security cameras at the bank that Sherlock and John were at and Sherlock was obviously looking at something important but he was looking at it in the silliest way. He was going up and down, in my sight then out of my sight like a gofer; it was the most adorable and cutest thing I have ever seen someone do in a long time, I laughed so hard I cried. That is something I have never done, ever.

I shut down the computer then placed it back where I found it. At exactly twenty-six minutes and forty-three seconds later I get a phone call from John.

"I am going to assume someone is dead, am I right John?" I asked casually.

"Your assumption is correct, his name is Edward Vancoon. I'm sure you'll find out more on your own once you get here, I'll text you the address." John said.

"_Wspaniały_." I grinned; it was a mischievous smile that not even the 'Cheshire Cat' himself could match.

I arrived at the address John texted me in fifteen minutes, I told the cab driver that if he got there in less than twenty minutes I would pay him extra. As soon as I got out of the cab the police arrived, I got into the building before them and looked around the flat for ant useful information before the crew came and started pulling things apart like toddlers. Edward Vancoon is left handed, that is all I really needed to know because when I saw his body it explained everything. I pulled out a pair of rubber gloves from my pocket and put them on as the investigators came flooding in taking pictures and sifting through stuff.

"So what have you boys got here so far?" I asked looking from John to Sherlock who was looking at the victim's suitcase.

"Been away three days; judging by the laundry. Look at the case, there was something tightly packed inside it." Sherlock stated.

"I'll take your word for it." John said; I chuckled at his remark about not wanting to go through the victim's dirty laundry.

"Those symbols at the bank, the graffiti. Why were they put there?" Sherlock asked.

"Some sort of code?" John guessed.

"Obviously, but why were they painted to communicate why not use e-mail?" Sherlock questioned.

"Well maybe he wasn't answering." John suggested.

"Oh good, you follow." Sherlock said.

"No." John replied in a confused but casual tone.

"What kind of message would everyone try to avoid?" Sherlock asked.

"What about this morning, those letters you were looking at?" I asked John, catching on what Sherlock was talking about.

"Bills." John answered. Sherlock pulled something from the victim's mouth.

"Yes, this man was being threatened." Sherlock concluded. John mumbled something that I could hear because of the noise that the person approaching us was making.

"Ah Sergeant, I believe we've never met." Sherlock said, approaching the man holding his hand out politely.

"Yeah I know who you are, and prefer that you didn't tamper with any of the evidence." The man said rudely. Sherlock handed the little bag holding the evidence he had found and the man snatched it.

"I phoned Lestrade; is he on his way?" Sherlock asked.

"He's busy." The man snapped "I'm in charge, and it's not sergeant it's _Detective Inspector_ Dimmock." He said arrogantly. Sherlock turned his head to John and I, John shrugged his shoulders and I was staring at Dimmock.

"_Arogancki drań_." I muttered under my breath, John chuckled because he knew what I said because I said the same thing about Sherlock then Later translated it to John.

"What was that?" asked Dimmock.

"Nothing." I answered innocently, what I got in return was a cold, stern stare. Dimmock left the bedroom with us following close behind him.

"We're obviously looking at a suicide." He stated handing a bald man by the sofa the little bag Sherlock had given him.

"That does seem to be the only explanation of all the facts." John agreed.

"Wrong. It's one plausible explanation of _some _of the facts. You've got a solution you like but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it." Sherlock told Dimmock.

"Like?" Dimmock asked.

"The wound is on the _right_ side of his head." Sherlock answered.

"And?" Dimmock questioned.

"Vancoon was left-handed, cause quite a bit of contortion." I interrupted; the three men looked at me for an explanation of how I knew this.

"Left-handed." Dimmock repeated, his voice cracking a bit.

"Yes, you can tell by how everything in this flat is placed." I stated.

"Coffee mug handle pointing to the left, power sockets habitually used on the left, pen and paper on the left side of the phone because he holds the phone with his right hand and writes with his left. Shall I continue?" I asked.

"May I actually?" Sherlock asked.

"Be my guest." I smiled.

"There is a knife on the bread board with butter on the right side because he used it with his left. It's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head, conclusion someone broke in here and murdered him; only explanation of all the facts." Sherlock stated.

"But the gun?" Dimmock stuttered.

"He was waiting for the killer." Sherlock and I said seriously and simultaneously.

"He had been threatened." Sherlock explained.

"What?" Dimmock asked confusedly.

"Today at the bank, some sort of a warning." John told him.

"He fired a shot when his attacker came in." Sherlock continued.

"And the bullet?" asked Dimmock.

"Went through the opened window." I concluded.

"Oh come on, what are the chances of that?" he laughed sarcastically.

"Wait till you get the ballistics' report, the bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun I guarantee it." Sherlock said, putting on his coat and scarf.

"But if his door was locked from the inside how did the killer get in?" Dimmock asked

"Good, you're finally asking the right questions." Sherlock remarked, putting on one of his black leather gloves then left the room, I followed behind him and John followed me.

"I'll see you two back at the flat, I have to go walk the dogs. Come over to my flat, I'll make lunch." I told them then hailed a cab.

When I got home, I took the dogs out on our normal route then came back and to a shower. I decided to make a broth, when I finished Sherlock and John were still not back yet so I had some spare time on my hands. Sitting at my piano I played through Schubert's version of 'Ave Maria' then other songs such as 'The Servant Song', and finally 'On Eagles Wings'.

"_You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord,__  
__Who abide in His shadow for life,__  
__Say to the Lord, "My Refuge,__  
__My Rock in Whom I trust."__And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,__  
__Bear you on the breath of dawn,__  
__Make you to shine like the sun,__  
__And hold you in the palm of His Hand.__  
_

_The snare of the fowler will never capture you,__  
__And famine will bring you no fear;__  
__Under His Wings your refuge,__  
__His faithfulness your shield.__And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,__  
__Bear you on the breath of dawn,__  
__Make you to shine like the sun,__  
__And hold you in the palm of His Hand.__  
_

_You need not fear the terror of the night,__  
__Nor the arrow that flies by day,__  
__Though thousands fall about you,__  
__Near you it shall not come.__And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,__  
__Bear you on the breath of dawn,__  
__Make you to shine like the sun,__  
__And hold you in the palm of His Hand.__  
_

_For to His angels He's given a command,__  
__To guard you in all of your ways,__  
__Upon their hands they will bear you up,__  
__Lest you dash your foot against a stone.__And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,__  
__Bear you on the breath of dawn,__  
__Make you to shine like the sun,__  
__And hold you in the palm of His Hand.__  
__And hold you in the palm of His Hand._"

I jumped at the sound of clapping at my flat door. Turning away from my piano I saw Sherlock, John, and Mrs. Hudson enter my flat.

"Honestly, do any of you know how to knock?" I asked rhetorically.

"No." I laughed as they answered together with mischief in their eyes.

"That was beautiful my dear." Mrs. Hudson complimented.

"Yes, absolutely lovely." John agreed.

"Well done, I must say." Sherlock smirked.

"_Dziękuję moi przyjaciele_.Mrs. Hudson would you like to join us for lunch?" I asked my lovely landlady after I smiled and giving them a small dramatic bow.

"Not this time dear, I'm going to the grocer to get some more cleaning supplies and other things for my refrigerator. But thank you for asking." She told me, and then we said 'goodbye' and she left.

"So, anything new on the case?" I asked them after giving John a bowl of broth.

"No not yet, we're going to talk to our client from the bank once more to see what he knew about Vancoon's recent travels." John explained before taking a spoonful of broth.

"Rosie, this is amazing!" John said before taking another spoonful.

"Thank you John." I said, pouring some broth into a small bowl, the size of a cat food can, and placed it in front of Sherlock.

"I know you don't eat while working on a case but you need at least something to sustain you." I told him, he looked at me as if I were some sort of oddity, a mystery.

"Don't even try to argue with me, if you do I _will_ tie you to this chair and force this broth down your throat." I threatened him with the most serious face I could. Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Very well then." He said and then took a spoonful.

"You are a very good cook by the way." He added after he had finished chewing.

"Thank you Sherlock, see that wasn't so bad was it?" I asked rhetorically and he knew it was rhetorical.

"This morning you spoke about planting flowers, what kind?" John asked, breaking the silence.

"Roses: red, blue, white, and lavender." I answered him.

"How typical." Sherlock sighed.

"Excuse me, what is _that_ supposed to mean?" I asked him, my anger beginning to rise.

"It is typical for women to plant flowers, roses are the most common." He stated casually.

"Are you comparing to normal women Sherlock?" I asked him angrily.

"Absolutely not Rozalia, I am stating how you are not like other women; you don't let people push you around, you are independent and don't need someone to protect you because you are perfectly capable of defending yourself." He chuckled.

"Thank you." I said calmly. "What is the point of being normal if you can't have any fun?" I smirked.

"Exactly." Sherlock returned my smirk with one of his own.

"So, you said that there was graffiti or some sort of marks left at the bank for Vancoon, did you take any pictures?" I asked getting back to what we needed to focus on solving the case.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Sherlock huffed.

"There is no need to take that tone with me, I was only asking. May I see these pictures?" I asked trying my hardest to not give him a good smack across his face.

"Yes, you can look over them while John and I go to speak with our client." Sherlock explained.

"Very well." I nodded showing my agreement.

**My apologies dear readers but I must stop here for now. Your reviews mean everything to me.**

** - Imagineer**


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